


Tumblr Tidbits

by Mellomailbox



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlets, M/M, Tumblr, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, tumblr birthday fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 14:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2735846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellomailbox/pseuds/Mellomailbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of little tumblr ask-box fills and ficlets. Mostly all Cherik, mostly unedited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cat got your tongue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Askbox prompt fill. In which Charles and Erik are cats who can't find a middle ground.

Erik was easily the prettiest barn cat that Charles had ever seen.

Granted, Charles hadn’t had the opportunity to see very many cats, being a house pet, but he thought his judgment was sound.

Erik was silver, tall, and strong. His coat was short and well kept, and practically shone in the sunlight, and he prowled like the large cats of the jungle.

“What are you mooning about, Charles?” Raven yawned from her perch on the porch railing, lethargically dangling a spotted paw and flexing her claws.

“Just watching Erik again, dear.” Charles responded honestly, eyes still tracking Erik as he skulked around the side of the barn, most likely stalking some vermin or another.

Raven practically rolled off of her spot in the sun, graceful as a ballerina as she landed with a thump, whiskers twitching up to where Charles was curled up snugly on the open window sill. “Want me to call him over?” She asked mischievously, tail twitching.

“No!” Charles hissed, and leaned down to swat at her with his front paw. He’d been declawed as a kitten, so it didn’t accomplish much as she bounded out of his harmless grasp, yowling,

“Erik! Over here, Erik!”

Charles could see Erik’s ears twitching from across the field, but he ignored Raven’s calls, head bent low and shoulder blades protruding as he readied himself for a pounce.

Before he had the chance Azazel leapt from seemingly nowhere, bounding off of Erik’s back and successfully scaring off whatever prey Erik had been after. Raven perked up at the sight of Erik’s littermate, and started yowling for him instead.

“Raven, stop making such a ruckus!” Charles hissed again, tail thwapping in agitation.

“You’re such a pile of wet leaves, Charles.” Raven complained, padding smoothly to the end of the porch to meet Azazel and Erik. “It’s a wonder mom and dad had you declawed, since you avoid anything exciting like the plague.”

“I’m a housecat Raven, and so were you once! It’s only right that we remain in the house and out of trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m going to go have fun with Azazel and the others. If you pull that stick out of your butt you can join us.”

Azazel was as close to the porch as his stray instincts would let him, hovering just on the edge between the farmland’s between-season overgrowth and the perfectly manicured lawn. Raven hopped down from the porch and was across the lawn in a moment, running headlong into Azazel in greeting. They rubbed cheeks for a moment before disappearing into the grass.

Charles was feeling a profound sense of loneliness when he heard the distinctive thumping of Erik’s muscled body hopping onto the back end of the porch on the side that wrapped around the corner of the house.

He peeked around the corner cautiously, braver than Azazel but still not willing to set aside his instincts, and Charles meowed happily at him.

Erik kept his side to the wall as he sauntered over, leaning up to meet Charles’ nose bump affectionately.

“Your sister is a menace.” He grumbled, and Charles purred lightly in sympathy.

“I know. She was much too wild for a housecat, our parents should have known.”

“Are you coming down?” Erik asked as usual, and Charles flattened his ears back a little, pouting, “You know that I can’t, love. I’m not meant for the life that you live.”

Erik sighed and hopped up onto the windowsill next to Charles, and they immediately curled into each other, purring softly. “We weren’t meant to be owned, Charles. We’re wild creatures of nature. We’re meant to be free.”

Charles overlaid Erik’s slick tail with the massive fluff of his own, and nosed at his cheek, rubbing their scent glands together. “Oh hush. You know that’s not necessarily true. Besides, could you imagine me, out there, in all that dirt and wild sleuthing? My fur would get tangled, and I wouldn’t know what to do with a mouse even if I caught one.”

“You’d eat it,” Erik said seriously, and Charles nipped playfully at his face when he murmured, “Not that you could ever catch one.”

“Don’t you go getting all morose on me now, Erik. The human baby shouldn’t have grabbed at you, and it was only natural that you’d scratch her and run. Mom and Dad had no reason to believe that it was anyone other than me when they took my claws, and besides, even with my claws you know I’d never be able to use them for anything.”

He leaned farther into Erik’s larger, stronger body, and playfully pawed at his chin. “I’d just cuddle it and ask it how its day was going. I’d probably be the first vegetarian cat!” Charles mused, and Erik barked a laugh that he tried to hide as a sneeze.

“You’d die.” He said, but his tone was light and he was purring again, telling Charles that the argument would be dropped. For now.

“You’ll protect me.” Charles purred, and laid his head over his paws, Erik’s chin settled atop his companionably as they drifted off into a nap, happy as a pair of cats in the sun.


	2. Not the Model citizen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt fill. Erik is obsessed with the new face of Prada, Charles Xavier. This one is rated M.

Erik runs into Charles Xavier for the first time while he’s at the airport.

He’s on his way to Hamburg, and even though it’s annoying to be pulled from the authentication department to something marketing related, he’s looking forward to seeing his mom and speaking his native language for a couple of days.

He’s earlier than he thought he’d be for the flight, settled in an uncomfortable plastic chair with his carry-on at his feet and a magazine in his hands. He’s just flipped the cover when he notices that someone has sat down next to him, and its instinct that his him lifting his head to get a look at the newcomer more than any real desire for interaction.

The man settled next to him is outrageously attractive. Erik actually feels his heart stop, and isn’t that the strangest thing? Who’d have thought that those shitty romance novels had any basis in truth.

Erik swallowed roughly, trying to hide the fact that he was catching his breath as the man noticed he was being stared at, and rather than uncomfortably avoid eye contact like any normal human being his (red, red) lips split into a grin, hand on offer for a shake as he asked, “Headed to Hamburg?”

It was automatic for Erik to take his hand, and the man’s palm was soft, his long, square fingers gripping firmly and confidently in more of a grasping than a shake.

“Ah, ja.” Erik cleared his throat, finally meeting the other man’s eyes as he apologized, “Sorry, I mean yes, I am. Business trip. You?”

Even hidden behind thick (and stylish) frames, Erik could confidently say that this man had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. If he were a poet he was sure that he could spend his whole life writing just about the mesmerizing way that the thin, yellow lighting of the airport reflected off of them.

The man’s lips were still quirked upwards, more in an amused fashion than awkward, and he made no attempt to let go of Erik’s hand. “Mine is work as well. I have a shoot.”

Erik noticed the way that the man’s stubble was perfectly even, his clothing casual yet perfectly fashionable in a deceptively- professor-like way. Normally a gray cardigan with jeans and a button up would betray laziness and questionable taste, but on this man, paired with his good looks and perfectly styled hair, made him look like he’d just stepped off of a runway.

“Modeling?” Erik asked, and it was only after he said it that he realized how much of a pick up line that it sounded like.

The man laughed, and finally dropped his hand as first class was called over the speakers. “Yes. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Erik was left flabbergasted as the man grabbed the handle of his carry-on, wiggling his fingers at him in goodbye before turning to walk away.

He took some pleasure in watching the stranger’s ass as he walked, and he didn’t think that he was imagining the extra sashay that his hips gave.

It wasn’t until coach was called and Erik was gathering up his things that he noticed the page he’d had the magazine open to. There was the man, gorgeous in black and white profile, unnecessarily stylish glasses perched on his nose and expression frosty in the way that only models’ were, with PRADA in bold letters in the background.

Erik would be mad that he’d made a fool out of himself, asking about the man with his add sitting on his lap, but he just felt intrigued.

\---

The next time that he met Charles Xavier he knew his age, that he was a scientist, and that his sister was by far more famous in the modeling world than he was. Charles Xavier had just emerged within the modeling circles about a year ago, in a shoot he’d done with his sister, and he had not taken part in a single interview since his sudden skyrocketing to fame.

He ran into Charles a second time in a bathroom stall at a museum opening. He felt the awkward brush of elbows while washing his hands at the sinks, and looked up to a startled pair of familiar blue eyes.

“Charles?” He asked incredulously, and even though he’d shaved, was wearing contacts and had grown out his hair, he knew in an instant who he was looking at.

Charles gave him a bemused look, and continued to wash his hands as if already at ease with the fact that he’d run into a stranger for a second time.

“Yes, that’s me.” He replied, and leaned behind Erik to reach the paper towel dispenser. “I’m afraid that I don’t have the privilege of knowing your name, though.”

Erik reached for the dispenser when Charles was done with it, and answered completely straight faced, “Erik Lensherr. We’ve met.”

Charles smiled conspiratorially, holding out his hand in a mimicry of last time. “I remember. At the airport to Hamburg, yeah? How was your business trip?”

Erik took Charles’ hand in his easily, grin sharkish as he responded, “More fruitful than I’d expected. Those pieces being introduced were brought over by my company.”

Charles arched a brow, and feigned impressed. “Really? What’s your favorite piece?”

If it was weird for them to be having this conversation in the bathroom neither of them noticed, although it was only natural for them to leave the room side by side as they spoke. Charles slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks as Erik held the door open for him, not even hiding as he took in the sight of Charles’ ass as he walked past.

“I saw a lot of pretty things in Germany, but I have to say that I found my most beautiful discovery here in America.” They were getting closer to the party, and Erik could already see Charles’ sister’s blonde head bobbing towards them.

“Really? Where’d you find it?” Charles asked curiously, showing no indication that he saw his sister approaching.

Erik grinned again and leaned down as if sharing a secret, replying, “At the airport.”

Erik slipped his number into the pocket of Charles’ tux before walking away to the sound of Charles’ embarrassed laughter, and didn’t need to turn around to see the blush warming his cheeks.

\---

The last time Erik runs into Charles Xavier it’s on his way to meet him for coffee. Charles had called him the night of the museum party, all flirtation and clever wit that had quickly devolved into political debates and arguments about human rights. After two hours the conversation had turned to polemics, and knowing that neither were going to proceed their points they agreed to meet for coffee the next morning to continue their conversation.

Erik gave one last look to the spread he’d taped across his wall. Charles’ face was in every shape and size, every article that he’d found of his modeling career arranged artfully in a collage. He’d probably need to get rid of it before he and Charles actually started dating; very few people saw these sort of things as art, and more as creepy stalker-ish obsessions.

Erik couldn’t help it if he was obsessed with beauty.

He was running late, though, and that was not the sort of first impression that one wanted to give on their first date with the man that they’d been obsessing with for three months.

He literally ran into Charles as he was rounding the corner, and they fell to the pavement with a painful thud, coffee spilled all over Charles’ t-shirt and down the side of Erik’s jeans. Charles’ glasses lay shattered on the sidewalk next to them too, and they both sat up, silently taking in the damage before Charles gave him a blinding grin.

“We do tend to meet in interesting ways don’t we, my friend.”

Erik smiled and stood, grabbing the remains of the crushed Styrofoam cup in one hand and extending the other to help Charles stand.

Charles hopped up easily, letting go of Erik’s hand to pull dismally at his soaked shirt. “I should probably head home and change.”

“My apartment is just around the corner.” The words were out of Erik’s mouth before he’d thought of what he was saying, and Charles froze where he was squeezing out his ruined shirt.

Erik was about to apologize and rescind his offer when Charles lifted his face, eyes sharp as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. It was all a show, even Erik could tell that much, but the fact that he was even putting on the show in the first place set a hot lump in his stomach that ignited as Charles replied, “All right, your place it is. Lead the way.”

\---

“Erik—“

“What?”

“Er-erik.”

“What?”

“ _Erik!”_

Erik pulled his nose away from where it had been pushing against the underside of Charles’ jaw, coaxing it upwards so that he could lick at the underside while Charles made breathy sounds. He had Charles pressed against the wall of his kitchen, one leg wrapped around his waist and the other propped up on the end of the island behind Erik to help keep them balanced and take some of the weight off of Erik’s arms. Charles was shirtless and Erik was pants less and they were both grinding against each other like desperate high schoolers.

Charles was scrabbling for purchase along Erik’s back, fingers gripping his shirt as he practically whined, “This isn’t working.”

Erik arched an eyebrow, and rolled their erections together again and said, “It seems to be working pretty well from my perspective.”

Charles was too busy moaning to reply, and Erik took that as permission to continue and dipped down to continue biting at Charles’ jaw. He was going to need to grow out his stubble again to hide the marks Erik was leaving.

“Er- _iiik._ ” That time it was a whine, and Erik pulled his face back again to look disapprovingly into Charles’ frustrated gaze. He didn’t stop the gentle rocking of their hips, though, and every press against the wall had Charles breathing a soft moan that bellied any intimidation he may have had.

Charles clutched tighter to Erik’s shoulders during a particularly dexterous twist of Erik’s hips, and had to blink away his arousal as he reiterated, “This isn’t working for _me._ ”

Erik took that as a challenge, hiking Charles’ leg up higher over his hip before reaching for the button of his jeans. Charles sucked in a breath as Erik slid his hand inside, never stopping the rhythm of his hips even as he pulled out Charles’ cock and gave it an experimental squeeze.

“Oh, oh _fuck you_ Erik, that’s not what I mean.” Charles hissed, and let his head fall back with a thud against the wall, thighs burning from his efforts to keep himself off the ground and simultaneously thrust into Erik’s hand. He was almost horizontal now, and the delicious press of Erik’s hardness against his ass seemed to bring him back to his argument.

Erik was grunting, laser focus on his hand as if he was mesmerized by the sight of Charles’ cock, and Charles gave a high, pathetic whine to get Erik’s attention again.

Erik’s laser gaze was on him now, and he leaned forward hungrily, growling in annoyance when Charles tipped his face away to avoid the kiss. “Take me to a bed, Erik. You’ll not get me off on a wall, I promise you that.”

Erik froze, and the sudden loss of movement almost had Charles pulling out of Erik’s grip and toppling to the floor as he lost his balance. Erik’s could feel his heart racing and he hoped that Charles would attribute it to the exercise and not nervousness.

“No.” He intoned.

Charles tilted his head up from the wall so that he could give Erik an incredulous stare. “No?”

“No.” Erik confirmed, and moved to kiss him again. Charles allowed it for a moment, but just as Erik was sure that the subject was dropped and he would, in fact, get Charles off against a wall, Charles leaned away again.

“Why not?”

Erik rumbled low in his chest, but Charles wasn’t intimidated. “Because my bedroom is a mess.”

It was a weak excuse and they both knew it, and Charles stopped his frantic gyrating to give Erik a stern glare. “Bed. Now.”

Erik seemed to acquiesce, pulling away so that Charles could drop to wobbly legs, and he grabbed Charles’ elbow to steady him, bringing his lips to his ear and hotly asking, “Is a couch good enough? We’re not going in my bedroom.”

It wouldn’t be strange for Charles to get offended at this, but instead he gave Erik an almost calculating look, hand grazing up his forearm as he played at consideration.

“That seems all right.”

Erik rolled his eyes, and turned to show Charles the way as he fought the urge to palm at his erection. He was so distracted that his reflexes weren’t fast enough to catch Charles before he bolted behind him and around the island, taking a left down the only hallway and throwing open the only shut door.

Erik felt his heart stop and bolted after him, calling, “Charles, it’s not what you think!”

He came to a full stop in his doorway, Charles looking blank faced at the shrine of photos glued artfully along one side of his wall. The rest of his bedroom was immaculate, not that Charles had any reason to believe Erik’s lie anymore, and Erik cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Charles, I-“

“Shut up.” Charles’ voice was tight, but his eyes were dark, and Erik noticed that Charles’ arousal hadn’t waned at all. In three strides Charles was in front of him, and Erik could only stand in confusion as Charles slid a hand into Erik’s hair, cupping the back of his head and bringing it down to meet him as the other pulled Erik’s hips forward.

Erik responded to the kiss immediately, all open mouthed and frantic, tongues and teeth and sharp noises as Charles walked them backwards until the back of his knees hit the mattress. He let himself fall back, letting go of Erik in order to slide fully onto the maroon bedspread before leaning forward and hooking a hand underneath Erik’s T-shirt, using it as leverage to pull him forward and on top of him.

“Take off my pants.” He ordered, and Erik was quick to obey, sliding his thumbs underneath the waistband of both pants and boxers and pulling them down, Charles’ cock rutting against his stomach as he lifted his hips to help Erik remove the offending clothing. He seemed to like the way that it felt, and rubbed himself against the taught planes of Erik’s stomach a few times before falling back against the bedspread.

Erik removed his shirt in one quick motion, and now they were both naked save for Erik’s boxers and Charles’ socks.

Charles spread his legs obscenely, and lifted his hands over his head so that he could stretch languidly underneath Erik. Where Erik was all hard muscle and sharp angles, Charles was lithe and soft and delicate, average size for a man of his height, the hint of muscles underneath the milk of his lightly freckled skin.

Erik could easily see his popularity as a model, and Charles gave him a sultry look from beneath a hooded gaze, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he arched his back. “Did you imagine me like this, Erik? Have you looked at those photos of me and imagined that you’d have me here, beneath you, begging for you to fuck me?”

Erik made a strangled sound and pressed their bodies together, stealing Charles’ plumped lip away from his teeth so that he could suck on it. Charles licked into his mouth immediately, and began rocking up into Erik, his own thumbs slipping underneath the waistband of Erik’s underwear and pulling them down his thighs. “I want you to fuck me, Erik.” He breathed against his mouth, and Erik lifted himself to his knees so that he could pull his boxers off.

This brought Erik’s cock flush against the underside of Charles’ balls, and Charles had his legs wrapped back around Erik’s hips in an instant, achingly hard.

As much as Erik wanted to oblige Charles’ request he knew that neither of them were going to last much longer, so Erik rolled them onto their sides, wrapping a hand around their cocks and giving a rough pull.

Charles moaned louder, back arching into Erik’s hand, but his toes were twitching within his socks from the rough friction of Erik’s calloused palm. Charles tugged at Erik’s wrist, bringing a hand up to his face as he lapped obscenely at his palm, and Erik pulled it away when Charles started to bite playfully at his fingers.

Christ, it would be emberassing for him to come just from Charles sucking on his fingers.

The slide of his hand was slicker now, and Charles breathy moans were growing in pitch. Erik dug a heel into his bed, angling his hips so that while they were still on their sides, he was mostly pressing Charles into the mattress.

Charles had brought a fist to his mouth, and he was biting at his knuckles, which were doing nothing to muffle his keens. His eyes were screwed shut, and the telltale flush was creeping across his chest and shoulders and over his collarbones.

Erik kissed the back of Charles’ fist, and the moment that Charles felt his lips he grabbed Erik’s face in his hands, pulling him forward and moaning against his mouth between frantic kisses, “Erik, Erik, oh god,” And Erik could feel the tightness in his balls, and his own breath was coming in shallow gasps as he bit at Charles’ lips, not able to hold on any longer as he came.

Charles spread his legs even wider, thrusting into Erik’s palms a few more times before crying out against his mouth, his own orgasm following Erik’s almost violently.

They both fell onto their backs, and Erik drunkenly grabbed for his t-shirt so that he could wipe their orgasm off of his hand.

Charles’ chest was heaving as Erik wiped him down clumsily, and Charles rolled his head to the side, messy hair stuck to his forehead as he gave Erik a mad grin. “Big fan, I take it?” There was nothing but humor in his voice, but Erik couldn’t help the blush that crept into his face as he avoided looking at the offending wall plastered with Charles’ visage.

“You’re not offended?”

Charles pulled the covers from underneath them and wiggled inside, and propped his head on his hand once he was comfortably snuggled underneath them. “Of course not.” He answered, and toed his socks off so that he could press his feet against Erik’s when he slid underneath the blankets next to Charles. “I find it quite flattering, and more than a little sexy.”

Erik pulled down a couple of pillows, stuffing one underneath Charles’ elbow and making him fall forward, into Erik’s waiting arms. “I am incredibly lucky. Your weird kinkiness just avoided me a stalking arrest.”

Charles harrumphed and then looked up to Erik suspiciously. “You weren’t actually stalking me though, right?”

Erik grinned all teeth, and asked, “Do you think that I was?”

Charles settled back into Erik’s arms, and said, “No, I know that you weren’t. I would have noticed while I was stalking you.”

Erik barked a laugh, and waited for Charles’ returning chuckle at the humor. When it didn’t come he looked down, and saw Charles feigning sleep. “You’re joking.”

Charles merely hummed in response, and Erik let it go for now, settling down for a midday nap himself.

\---

He and Charles saw each other exclusively from that point forward, and even if Erik never got a straight answer from Charles’ stalking joke, he did take down his own collage.

It just moved to a scrapbook, along with any pictures of them as a couple and the mysterious shots of Charles’ photo shoots that appeared on his doorstep weeks before each release.


	3. sick of you loving me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ask prompt again. Charles is sick and Erik sneaks into the mansion to take care of him.

Scott is so startled to see a strange man open the Professors bedroom door that he shoots a laser beam at him.

Erik is an adult, and has better control. Barely.

So he uses the metal knob on the door to slam it in Scott’s face.

In less than a second they can hear the deafening thunder that only children can make when running, and Scott’s voice shouting hysterically for his brother.

“You’ve done in now, Erik. Might as well go.” The professor says sagely from him spot on the bed.

Or he would say sagely, if he didn’t stat hacking up a lung the moment Erik’s name left his lips. Even propped up against the headboard with ludicrously decorated throw pillows Charles was still having trouble leaning forward enough to cough up whatever was stuck in his lungs, and Erik could feel the burgeoning panic from the telepath as his hands scrabbled for a hold, sheets bunching as he tried to lift his torso.

Erik was at his side in three long strides, palm bracing Charles’ back as his other hand slips underneath the ones scrabbling for purchase so that Charles could clutch at his fingers.

“None of these children are any match for me.” Erik mutters, more out of principle than any real threat. “Do I need to take you to a hospital?”

Charles coughs for a few more moments, and Erik makes sure he can hold himself steady before removing his hand so that he can reach for the glass of water by the bed instead.

‘ _I’ll not have a fight in my school, Erik. You know that.’_ Charles thinks as he drinks, and ignores Erik’s palpable concern at the sheen on his forehead betraying his fever. _‘And you’re concerned for naught. It’s just a cold, and illness is quite common for the paralyzed.’_

He thinks it without any sort of edge, although he does glance briefly at the helmet set carelessly aside the open window at Erik’s nearly imperceptible flinch.

Erik takes the partially emptied glass from Charles’ hand, about to argue some more when there’s a loud crash sounding suspiciously like a large person running headlong into a closed door.

There is another thump, and the frame shakes but holds. Charles side-eyes Erik and asked, “Are you holding the door shut with your powers?”

Erik purses his lips when another crash sounds, and this one is strong enough to crack the foundation around the door and send the attacker thumping back into the opposite wall of the hallway. “By the doorknob and the hinges.” Erik confirms, and Charles gives an exasperated huff that quickly peppers into small coughs.

Erik is leaning over him again, broad palm rubbing comfortingly up and down his back as he coughs, his other hand slipping into Charles’ grip once more. Even as Charles grips his fingers, he thinks, ‘ _Open the bloody door before Hank shows up and breaks it down.’_

Erik grimaces and releases his hold on the metal just as Alex and Sean take a running start toward it, flying through it shoulder first and landing on their faces.

In a moment they’re on their feet, Sean’s incredulous “Erik?!” just a few octaves above Alex’s, and hopefully Scott hears the recognition in their voices because otherwise entering after them would have been suicidal.

Erik is sitting on the edge of the chair he’d pulled up beside Charles’ bed, and is still rubbing his back to hide from the boys that he needs the support to stay upright. It’s still almost blindingly affectionate, which is why it’s a little silly when Alex asks, “What the fuck did you do to the professor?”

There are two little girls peeking around the corner, one with red hair and fair skin and another with a shock of a white Mohawk and tanned skin. They can’t be older than six years old, Erik thinks, and he looks at Charles reproachfully, ignoring Alex’s accusation.

“Have you not taught them any self-preservation, Charles? What if I was here to kill you? All these children would be dead. Don’t they know who I am?”

Charles glares up to him, cautious not to set himself into another coughing fit as he thinks, _‘You’re not here to kill me or them. I’ve taught them that you’re not dangerous, only your ideals.’_

Erik snorts, but he knows when the time for an argument is, and now isn’t it. Charles has lifted his head to look at the boys, his normally perfectly styled hair falling lank in front of his eyes. Erik doesn’t know what he says to them, Charles doesn’t make him privy to the conversation, but with an explosive outburst Alex storms out of the room, a clearly uncomfortable Sean behind him. Sean steers Scott and the other two away from the door, before hesitating in the doorway.

“If you’re in trouble, Professor, blink twice.”

Charles’ laughter is quickly replaced by more heaving coughs, and Erik throws Sean out of the doorway by the metal in his clothing before slamming the door shut and locking it. He ignores the thump of the boy hitting the wall and Charles’ following disapproval radiating hotly against his mind.

“What did you tell them?” Erik asks blithely, settling in the chair again and reaching for the glass of water that had somehow safely made its way back to the bedside table.

‘ _I asked them to have Hank call my Nurse. She should be here in a few hours. Until then,’_ Charles pulls at the corner of the giant duvet, and Erik schools his expression to something nonchalant as he crawls onto the bed next to him without being asked.

Erik slides under the covers, pulling Charles back against his chest, and wraps his arms around his middle so that one hand lays flat against his stomach, the other tangled in Charles’ fingers again.

Charles tips his head back, lashes brushing at Erik’s stubble as he looks at him smugly. ‘ _You’d better be gone before she gets here.’_ He thinks, and Erik scoffs, before tilting his face to the side to kiss him.

The kisses are light and soft, but Charles’s abdomen starts to shake from the coughs he’s trying to hold in, and Erik pulls away and settles his chin on Charles’ shoulder.

Charles allows some of the coughs out, and tilts his head back again so that he can nuzzle at Erik’s jaw, lids drooping.

_‘You’ll be sick now.’_

Erik projects his satisfaction at him, and kisses Charles once on his bare shoulder.

“Tell your students that if they disturb you for anything less than an emergency I’ll magnetize them to the ceiling.”

Charles pretends to be asleep, but Erik knows he does as he asks because they aren’t disturbed again until the Nurse arrives.


End file.
